


Tuesday, August 27th, 1782

by CanadianVoodooMagic



Series: Small Drabbles [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Emotional analysis of Laurens Interlude, F/M, I originally posted this on tumblr, John Dies, John Laurens? More like Gone Laurens, M/M, but have it here too, probably been done 100 times, too soon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 09:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10738446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianVoodooMagic/pseuds/CanadianVoodooMagic
Summary: Achilles and Patroclus were lovers. When Patroclus died, Achilles went mad with grief."On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regimentHis dream of freedom for these men dies with him."





	Tuesday, August 27th, 1782

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MY SO who asked for this](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MY+SO+who+asked+for+this).



_"Alexander there's a letter for you."_  
  
Dark eyes glance upwards, and he turns his head towards his wife, finding her radiance as always stunning in the evening candlelight. What he had done to deserve her presence in his world is unknown to him, eyes glance downwards, stomach still slightly swollen from recent birth. There son lay asleep in the other room, having only just been put down.

_"It's from Laurens, I’ll read it later."_

Fondness colored his tone and painted his expression soft. An ever growing and longing expression in place when the man is mentioned. His heart yearns for its other half, for the man he had found himself unwilling to part with after the war.  
Lay down your sword, adorn your toga instead.

Let us build this place like men built Ancient Rome, make an empire, a place they can be proud to call their own. Make a place where perhaps in a perfect future men could be together as we have without the consequence of a noose.

  
_“No, it’s from his father.”_  
  
The words he had been expecting hadn’t graced his ears. So he stands, walks over to her, hand reaching briefly a moment, a habit, but he lets it fall, fear clouding his mind before he wets his lips in order to speak.

_“His father? Will you read it for me?”_

Achilles and Patroclus were lovers

_“On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment_   
_His dream of freedom for these men dies with him."_

**When Patroclus died, Achilles went mad with grief.**

Eyes avert, fall as a storm rages on within him, tears the pieces of himself asunder and leaves him feeling leaden and heavy with it. There’s a buzzing in his ears that he’d only ever heard after cannon fire, battles in a never ending war. But Alexander did not stand now in a field of bodies, but in his own home, polished wood beneath stocking clad feet. Hands empty and hanging limp, but feeling as if they are being pulled down by strings, every part of his body feels the gravitational pull of Laurens now, to join in him the ground beneath the wood.

Let them find solace in one another under Hades’ watchful eye should Zeus deem them guilty of sin.

But how could it be sinful if they loved one another so?

His knees are weak, so he sits down in the furniture, he hears his name, he thinks. Perhaps with the chime of his wife’s voice, lulling and beckoning like a lighthouse here to light his path, to guide him safely away from the roaring waves of his mind.

But what is he supposed to say? How can he answer the question on her full painted lips? How can he begin to explain that he had just lost a part of himself, that there is going to be a void that even she and his son can not fill. A gaping bleeding hole in his chest that eats away at him with carnivorous teeth and claws.  
He called him his dearest because he held no one dearer. Eliza did not hold a candle to John, not in many ways. They existed separately to him, never a competition between the two, he had enough love to give, and he did so desperately so deeply. But why is it that everything he loves with such strength is ripped from his hands?

Who had he wronged to deserve this?

_“ I have so much work to do.”_

It’s all he manages, because what else can he do but drown himself in the mundane, busywork is the best way to keep himself together, he knows. And Alexander learned at a young age that the world does not stop for your grief. When Icarus falls the plower continues to turn his soil, the ship that surely saw something magical, a boy falling from the sky had somewhere to be and sailed calmly on.

_**And Icarus was left to drown in the sea.** _

So why not he? Should he not move forwards and continue his race? Would Laurens want him mourning? There are a million questions that Alexander does not have the answer to, will not, with even the most ancient and knowledge filled texts at his fingertips, for some things in life are meant to go unanswered. So he sits, Takes a deep breath and wishes more than anything for Eliza to dismiss herself, it is not fit for a woman to see her husband cry.

So he doesn’t, he will not. He will not give himself a single moment to mourn the passing of the man he loved, for he did not mourn when his father exited his life on a boat, or when his mother’s arms grew limp and cold around his small frame. Or when his cousin’s body hung from the banisters, rope swaying idly in the wind. No, he is Alexander Hamilton, and he will not shed a tear.

He stands, he kisses his wife’s head, for her sake or his own he isn’t sure, he takes the letter between deft fingers and goes to his office, locks himself away, and does not leave before morning light. There’s a case to work on, a government to build, a place to make Laurens proud when he inevitably joins him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr as a meme answer, however, I have edited and added to it to make a tad flowier. If you want to see more of my writings I run a roleplay blog for Alexander Hamilton at ambitionisfolly.tumblr.com feel free to follow me there and see how I write Alexander. As always, kudos and comments containing your thoughts on the work make my day so much better. Thank you!


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